


Thrown Away

by Writer_by_Heart



Category: Original Work
Genre: Garbology, I Tried, Short Story, What a waste basket can tell you about a person, Written for a Class, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_by_Heart/pseuds/Writer_by_Heart
Summary: Garbology is the study of a society or culture by examining and analyzing its refuse.In this case it's a trash can in some man's apartment.





	

 

The waste basket is overflowing and messy; crumbled up balls of paper lay scattered around it. Someone should really do something about the mess, but the one person who can won’t get around to do it. At the bottom are rough drafts filled with crossed out words and large Xs over paragraphs. In the mix of the garbage are a few cheap ramen cups and plastic forks. Always chicken or shrimp flavor, never anything else. Somewhere buried in the middle of the little bin that sits against an old work desk are one or two letters with the same neat cursive scribbled across their fronts. Inside each are the same pleadings and longings, full of forgiveness and regret, the person writing _‘Still Your Mother’_ at the bottom of each. None of it matter, it was all pointless effort to write such things when the seals remained untouched. Around the top are letters too, these eagerly ripped opened clumsily, as if by shaky hands. These too, were similar. For they all held rejection and transparent apologizes that held the weight of a feather. Some were thrown into the basket without a passing thought, others were torn to shreds. At the top of the bin sat a note, the last thing thrown away. _‘Sorry,’_ was the first word that could be read. The little note only had a paragraph to say, barely even five sentences. Maybe it was less a note and more a closing line. The last part of an end of a book. The last lines of a play before the curtain closes. A goodbye. The writer who wrote such a thing was proud when he wrote it, but also sad. He had no one to show it to. No one would care to read it.

So he threw it away.

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone one get the implied suicide? 
> 
> This was written for my Creative Writing class. I'm actually proud of it to be honest. 
> 
> Any thoughts?


End file.
